


Hope is an Insatiable Drive

by AnAlbanyExpression



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Fertility Issues, Fluff and Smut, Married Life, Oral Sex, Passion, Tenderness, True Love, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAlbanyExpression/pseuds/AnAlbanyExpression
Summary: Sam is unyeilding in her determination to become a mother. Her and Charles are not quiters, and they have no doubt that a baby exists in their future. It's just a matter of trying, in spite of the struggle they've weathered thus far. Something neither one is a stranger to in regards to their turbulent romance. With a terribly hefty sum of effort on her part, however, Samara is pained to relay to her gorgeous husband that she won't be ovulating for another four days. Charles comes to understand that he can't allow himself to orgasm for the rest of the week. Circumstance shouldn't suggest, however, that he won't continue taking care of his Bunty's needs.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 103





	Hope is an Insatiable Drive

_"...Bunty?"_

Samara, torn away from an all consuming focus upon the screen of her phone, paused in her movements atop the center of their mattress. Flattening her hips into the sheet beneath them once more, she spread her legs, meeting her husband's inquisitive gaze between bare thighs as he eyed her position with curious excitement. A subtle, familiar lust gleaming about the blue of his hypnotic irises.

Standing at the foot of their bed, Charles fixed his love with the calculated elevation of an eyebrow, comment escaping his tongue before she had the opportunity to snap out of the trance in which he held her. 

"I have no idea what you're doing, but please don't let me stop you." He purred, knowing that the vision he'd just beheld would forever be branded into his mind. It wouldn't matter where he was, awake or asleep. Aware, or subconscious. In some facet of his brain, Charles would constantly be picturing yet another erotic display gifted to him by his annwyl. 

Her giggle intoxicated him. Demanding his attention, as usual. 

"It's a fertility exercise. Vikki swears by it." Mid explanation, Samara continued with the action she'd elaborated, pulling her knees together once more and slowly lifting her hips into the air on another deep breath. "A bunch of her students had better luck conceiving after doing it every night before bed." She finished, tone hopeful and sweet.

He was touched, desire taking a backseat to the onslaught of emotion that washed over his psyche. Both of them desperately wanted children, despite every discouraging complication they had faced along the way. Two miscarriages and three years worth of trying under their torn, disheveled belt, Samara never stopped believing in her goal to make a father out of him. Maintaining an unyielding dedication towards the future they were building at each other's sides.

_"Let's keep trying."_

_"I know that we can do this."_

_"I'm so excited to have your babies."_

He grinned, brow tented as he fought to prevent this heartwarming woman from stifling his ability to keep tears at bay. _Christ, I'm becoming my father in-law._

"Might I suggest another one?" Charles drawled, palm lovingly wrapping atop one of her knees and gently coaxing it to the side. Providing him with the space he needed in order to crawl upon the length of her half-naked body, hand smoothing down her thigh in an agonizingly pleasurable caress. Fingertips gracing her ass, he let his immaculately manicured nails make subtle indents on the flesh there, relishing in the tremors that shot through his gorgeous little lamb.

Resting his hips snug between her thighs, his cock rejoiced at its proximity to her sex. Samara's beautiful pussy clad only in an adorable pair of white, lacy boyshorts. He dove for her neck, then. Lips sucking, teeth nipping eagerly in all of the places from which he knew he could coax her mouthwatering moans and cries. 

" _Mmm, Charles…"_ Her voice was strained, tortured though intentionally urgent as she avoided his affections. Shoving him as gingerly as she could manage, Sam wished to an uncanny degree that she could just let her beloved keep _going_. However, she knew that giving into the urge would only make things a World more difficult than they needed to be. The rationale killed her, alongside her efforts to pull away in spite of the undeniable burst in her libeto. A spike reserved only for her Welshman. _God_ , the way he affects her, even now. She already felt wet and ready for him to take her, _hard_. Exactly what she begs for, every time. _But…_

"Darling? My apologies, am I being too presumptuous?" He queried, concern ridden throughout his tone, movements coming to a complete halt as he pulled back to worriedly observe her expression. Which, okay, only made Sam want to give into her cunt's yearning even faster. _I love him so much._

"God, no. I just..." Samara sighed, offering a crooked, apologetic smile to accompany the bad news. She turned off her phone, still centered in one hand as she squeezed it against her chest. Irritated with the information her menstrual tracker had read.

"...I won't be ovulating again until Tuesday." She admitted, abandoning her grip on the aforementioned device so she could reach to cup his jaw, the pad of her thumb tracing his beautiful, plump lower lip. _Oh my God._ Sam's eyes grew hooded on instinct, thighs squeezing around his waist in a plea. _Life is so cruel._

His eyebrows rose in understanding, lips curving to form a gentle grin. Wanting her to believe that it was nothing to apologize for, discontent with the guilt that lined her features.

"Ah, we'll wait then." He soothed, kissing her temple in an effort to rid all possible feelings of inadequacy from his annwyl. He pet her hair, smiling against her skin. Incapable of ignoring the quiet mewl she provided with the touch of his lips, growing harder at the sound. 

His proximity made it impossible to not take note of the heat radiating from her form, or how she was practically vibrating against him with her tremors. Charles planted his face into the pillow on which her head was laying, the side of his profile resting against hers as he fought the blazing sense of arousal that brandished his frame. Totally in tune with her own, their responses so wonderfully, _torterously_ used to playing off of one another. 

After a moment of letting themselves collect their ability to resist this overwhelming temptation, Charles surprised Samara with the words that escaped him upon returning his gaze to her irises. Rubbing his nose into hers, he spoke with lustful compassion littered about his voice. _Christ, she's whimpering for you_

"You're riled, Bunty." She shook her head, despite how she knew her tells had to have been clear as day, to him especially. They knew one another to a T, and regardless, he always knew when she was lying.

"N-no, I'm ok- _ah!"_ Charles' breath hissed through gritted teeth, relentlessly turned on by her cry at the feel of his hand smoothing away from her hip, over her belly, and parking itself upon one breast through the cotton of her camisole. Clutching it, marveling at how the ample flesh overflowed between his fingers. 

" _Ch-Charles..."_ Her hands came up on their own accord, one tangling itself into his hair, the other delicately holding his enormous palm to her tit. Cursing the universe and it's perpetually awful timing. 

" _Hmm?..."_ He hummed, kissing the knuckles atop his own with patient reverence, understanding that he couldn't just assume she wanted him to go down on her. No matter how responsive she was being, it seldom mattered. Every orgasm he offers, regardless of the situation. It's mandatory that she grants him vocal permission. He would never pursue a climax from her, otherwise. Giving Samara his undivided attention, he settled every advance. Cradling her breast in his hand still, he refused to move it. Allotting her the opportunity to pull back.

"W-we can't." She panted, betraying the statement with an involuntarily tight grip upon his wrist, not wanting his touch to abandon her hardened nipple. He let all of his love for her shine in every centimeter of his expression, forehead laying softly into hers.

"Correction. _I_ can't. You, on the other hand..." Charles levied a little Eskimo kiss upon her nose.

"My sperm count wouldn't be affected in the slightest if I make you cum."

Samara's brow tented, compelling him to pepper benevolent pecks across the skin there. _Oh, how I adore her._

"Th-that also wouldn't be fair." She lamented, hand begrudgingly falling away from his as if to say, _you can let go now._

His eyebrows furrowed, a subtle glare trapping her gaze beneath his. "How so?" Her face was engulfed by a fresh wave of scarlett with his question, doe eyes peaking at him through her lashes.

"Well, _you know..."_ She faltered for a second, endearing the grin to softly take over his face once more. 

"Samara, beautiful, when have I ever given the impression that pleasuring you is an inconvenience?" Her expression grew startled, hands lifting to cup both sides of his face. Bashful nature forgotten in light of his query.

"N-never! I just..." She sighed, frustrated at her inability to articulate with his weight settled on top of her, the scent of his aftershave conjuring a brilliant cocktail of smells when combined with his infamously distracting cologne. 

"...I just, don't want you to go to bed all, _bothered_ when I've been satiated." To her surprise, Charles tsked. Smirking, a devilishly sexy note hedged his features. Rolling his forehead off of hers, he nudged the shell of her ear with his lips.

" _Nothing_ satiates me more than your pleasure, annwyl." He purred, sensually biting the heated cartilage to which he spoke. She moaned, imploring him to continue. Hand at his nape, fingers combing through his hair with needy abandon. 

"It pains me to think," Charles' palms petted her sides, clinging to a stop at the hem of her soft, agonizingly thin night shirt. "...that you could somehow fail to realize..." His thumbs hooked beneath it, guiding the fabric to rest just below her voluptuous, _perfectly_ ample breasts.

"...how lucky I am to worship this _stunning_ body of yours." 

Sam puled, turning her head enough to meet his eyes. Weak at discovering their hooded quality, paired with cheeks that must've been as red as her own. His words were doing indescribable things to both of them, making the prospect of pulling away acutely unbearable. She swallowed, gaze reflecting the hunger is his own.

"What are you waiting for, then?"

That was all the permission he needed. Wordlessly, his lips claimed hers, the pair separating just long enough to yank each other's shirts above their heads, tossing them to the side as he felt her nails rake down the length of his back. He growled, trapping her Cupid's bow between his teeth and shivering at the gasp she provided. Thrown for a loop at how explosive his Bunty was acting, this eagerness comparable only to the impassioned love making that follows his returns from lengthy business trips.

They were always excited and desperate for one another, and she had forever been excessively responsive to his affections. _This,_ however. The way her calves pulled him in at the backs of his thighs, hips lifting towards his form with their own pleas for attention. Moans and heady whimpers escaping her at every touch Charles allocates upon her flesh. She was a woman _starved,_ and he was quick to realize as much. His cock twitching against the nylon of his boxers. 

"Do you want my mouth, Samara?" He was breathless, tone as husky as it was firm. Exactly how she likes it.

"Ahh, _yes."_ Samara panted, nodding to him, donning an expression built of unadulterated trust and intoxicating urgency. He bit his lip, salivating with her encouragement.

She watched the muscles in his shoulders shift to support his decline, head bowing towards her chest. He was intent on teasing the Hell out of her entire body, wanting his wife to be _soaked_ by the time he reached her cunt.

His lips closed over the northern swell of one breast, sucking on the spot before licking a short trail to the side of her delicious mound. A slick line of saliva shimmering in his wake, gorgeous against the soft cream of her skin.

"Mmm, I can't get enough of you..." He cooed, hands smoothing up her sides, thumbs grazing her shaking tummy the entire way. He lifted one, busying it with massaging the tit he'd yet to pay any special mind to. Scrupulously licking torpid circles around the opposite breast's areola " _Ahn!"_ She keened, nails digging into the small of his back, her abdomen twitching with his unstinting ministrations.

" _Fuck,_ I can't _wait_ to make you a daddy."

His eyes rolled back, tongue flattening over the nipple he'd been torturing. He lowered his torso further as a reward, giving his tormented love something to rub against while he worked her. _Good girl._

" _That's it, Bunty._ _Call me daddy_." He demanded, leisurely shifting his waist from side to side, providing her pussy with a subtle friction as an insentive to oblige his command. 

She moaned, one hand traveling farther upon his skin, squeezing his ass as her arm trapped his abs against her sex. "Ahh, _daddy..."_

" _God, yes._ _"_ He groaned into the valley between her breasts, grinding the air with his approval and feeling how wet she is. Her nectar having spread to leak down her thighs at this point, almost dampening the entirety of her panties. Definitely leaving a copious sum of moisture upon his stomach. _Oh fy nuw..._

The arm that held him against her repositioned itself, folding to accompany her curious palm as it ventured towards his shoulders. Gripping one and pulling, begging for him to abandon the withholding dance that he's been mercilessly hosting atop her breasts. He resisted, carefully nipping at one peak as his thumb and forefinger pitched the other. Frustrated, she threw her head back, the action sending a muffled plopping noise into the air. 

"Ch-" she hiccuped, watching his head sink lower. Hair tickling her belly on the way down, she observed him with baited breath. His advance was promising, until he paused to bite her navel, in spite of the anguished cry that escaped her lungs. Blatantly protesting his decision to continue his little, 'hard to get' aura, having resorted to gnawing and licking once more. Now that he had a new plain of skin to manipulate into some quivering, begging mess. _Don't stop..._

"D- _daddy..."_ Samara pleaded, the fingers of both hands coaxing their way into his platinum locks. Not knowing if she wanted him to continue how he sees fit, or just imbed that familiar, talented month of his between her pussy lips already. As usual, she knew it didn't matter. Everything with him, regardless of how far they go, is always _so phenomenal. So right._

 _"Good girl..."_ Charles lauded, guiding one of her legs to lay over his shoulder and gripping the other by the knee. Looking up at her, his breaths were laboured, blue eyes convincing Samara of how gravely he wished to ravage her in that moment. And then, everything else fell away. Strangly enough, with his chin resting atop her bellybutton as he prepared to eat her out, this man became even more of a cosseted presence in her life. Just when she thought there was no way she could hold him to a higher revere. She reached, combing the bangs away from his vision, touch gentle and jarringly tender against the air of the situation. 

"I love you." She breathed, the light reflecting off of her wedding band vivid when surrounded by wisps of his hair, their shade a paler gold. His smile widened, gaze sticking to hers a second longer before he ducked his head again. Kissing her flesh with the kind of reverence that made her feel _immaculate._ An action which rang louder than words. _I love you more._

Finally, _finally,_ his attention reached her panties. Expecting him to continue with his torturous game of _wait for it,_ she was astounded at the tear that cut through the quiet atmosphere, a sound which joined the cacophony of heavy panting and her squirms against the silk beneath their bodies. The man had ripped her boyshorts clean off, having torn them down the middle, then proceeding the sentiment along a leg hole. Discarding the article with indifference, as if its presence had offended him. 

"Ch-Charles!" Sam giggled, shock overpowering her titillation long enough for her to offer a brief reaction. That is, until he blew on her labia, chills reaching the sensative vulva behind their crease that awaited his masterful abilities. She cried out, fisting his hair as her cells seemed to collectively rejoice, from her head to the soles of her feet. 

" _Ah ah ah, Bunty..."_ Charles scolded, giving her cunt the hastiest of licks and smirking at the groan with which he was compensated. The piquant tartness of her arousal brandishing his taste buds. " _That's 'daddy' to you."_

He was unsparing and brutal, growling as he yanked her body forward by the upper most facet of her thighs. Causing her to squeak with the rush of her shoulders being forcibly dragged off of the pillows on which they were initially stationed. He anchored one foot on the floor of their bedroom, bringing her hips to splay upon the edge of the mattress as he sunk to his knees. Displaying her core to his esurient gaze in its final resting destination. _Fuck, but her pussy is effulgent._

Shinning with the proof of her need for him, her opening was the picture of _ready._ Almost glowing with how it shimmered beneath the dim lighting of their chamber, the muscles surrounding it taught and flexed in anticipation. It's a glorious honor, knowing that you're pussy whipped. Why it's reserved as such an insult was always beyond Charles, his tongue deciding that he'd held out from her long enough.

Thoroughly, he licked every last drop of her syrup from the skin of her soft, nubile thighs. Savoring the intoxicating flavor with relish, quick to transition his mouth's attention towards its source. He fought the urge to touch himself through his bottoms, his dick growing to be even harder than he'd anticipated. She made lecherous, weeping noises. Relieved to have finally derived his aid where she ached for it the most. 

Both of her legs folded over each of his shoulders, calves drawing him closer via his back. He rubbed her thighs with veneration, sucking all traces of wetness off of her feminine pedals before laying into her clit. Circling its hood with the flat of his tongue, he let his heated slaver run down the span of her sex. Moistening her with his own proof of heady concupiscence, that being how drastically his mouth watered for this act. Getting to inspire the sounds she was making. His brows tented. _I could do this for hours, and hours..._

He hedged her clit with his lips and sucked, utilizing his saliva in order to easily slip two fingers inside of her opening. Taking no time at all to find her G-spot and begin tapping it, literally and figuratively floored to feel _more_ of her dangerously sapid lubricant lovingly seep around his digets. The walls of her vagina tightening even harder than he recalled was possible.

" _Ohhh, oh, please..."_ She whimpered, biting her lip as she marveled beneath his mind-blowing skills. At a loss for what she was saying, or what her hands were doing. Hell, she couldn't have told you what her _name_ was in that moment. Succumbing to the climax that began its rapid inclination, warming her stomach in a familiar buzz of waves and spasms. 

" _Fuck, I-oh my God, ahn, daddy!"_ Sam keened, limbs quivering at his groans vibrating against her clit. Interrupting the formation of her orgasm, but egging her on even further. Because _fuck,_ that felt _good._

 _"I, oh my God, I'm so close. I'm so close, I'm...I'm so-"_ Sam's next intake of breath was shrill, sharp gasps overcoming her frame as Charles ruthlessly doubled his efforts, breathing hard through his nose while he tried his damnedest not to cum in reaction to her own orgasm. Aware of how it was building between his lips. 

And at last, with his delicate suction upon her clit, she was there.

" _Ahaa! Ah, oh...oh! Daddy, YES! God, ohhh, I'm cumming!"_ was all she could manage before her screams became erratic and unintelligible, back arching as Charles pulled away to watch her lose control, fingers continuing to thrust inside of her between shaking legs. He moaned at the sight, prideful to help her ride out the Earth-shattering orgasm he had been so fortunate to have given her. 

It wasn't until she began to wheeze that he stood, pulling his knuckles away from her twitching sex and advancing towards the nightstand. Lifting her inhaler with a worried haste and shaking it, he guided the device towards her lips. Careful to wait until she gave him a nod before administering a pump to soothe her irregular intakes of oxygen.

A tranquil smile spread across his face as he looked upon her nude, satiated body. adoration igniting his features once the trail of his vision landed on her eyes again. He helped her to sit up, leaning Samara back into the pillows as she was before. Nuzzling his forehead into hers, gratefully allowing her to kiss his dampened lips in a tender caress of _thank you._

Because the two of them had reason to believe that their wait would be longer, Charles fell asleep in her arms that night without issue. Ignoring his insistent erection at the thought of a baby for which they were trying.

However, the couple would both find themselves gleefully mistaken come the following week. Neither of them aware that _two_ perfectly healthy embryos had already nestled themselves within Samara's womb. A year beyond this particular night of yearning for their future, the proud parents of Bennet and Delyth Jones would no longer have any cause for putting off each other's pleasure until Tuesday.

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by an interaction between Charlotte and Trey from Sex and the City. I watched said scene again recently and couldn't stop myself from placing Charles and Sam in their positions, then taking things a million steps further. 😏
> 
> All rights and credit for the characters should be directed towards Mongie, author and illustrator of the Webtoon, Let's Play. Be sure to check her out on Instagram, (@mongrelmarie), and read Let's Play!


End file.
